I love you, he means
by Hart Matters
Summary: Sasuke Uchiha was not a talkative person. He was not known for his eloquence or his vast vocabulary. Similar to battle, he was sharp, quick, and efficient. What he says and what he means, especially to his wife, are different and yet completely the same. A series of one shots.
1. Tadaima

**Post-war; non-canon. Does this make this AU? **

**Please read the author note at the end, it would mean a lot. Enjoy.**

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**I do not own Naruto.**

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_**Tadaima.**_

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_I have arrived in Suna. We plan to head out two days from when you will get this message. -S_

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_Please send my greetings to the Kazekage and his siblings. Sakura's birthday is in two months. Naruto has planned a party already and has invited us. He promises that there will be more than just ramen. -H_

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_It seems that there is more to be done in Suna. The kazekage has requested our team's help. It shall take a week at most. Ramen is fine. -S_

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_There have been dense, dark, gray clouds in the sky making their way to Konoha. I think it will rain soon. -H_

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_We leave tonight—what would have been yesterday by the time you read this. I plan to be home before the rain. -S_

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_We were attacked, however fine. We have stopped at a village a day's travel away from Suna. I will return soon. -S_

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_You say you are fine; I trust you. But I still worry. Be safe. I love you. -H_

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It was late at night—or early morning—he mused. Sasuke wasn't necessarily sure which it was, he had come back from a mission that ran later than expected. What originally was supposed to be a two week long mission turned into nearly one month, and as much as he wanted to return to his home and wife, he had to not only report to the Hokage, but the clinic as well. It was precautionary, he and his team had been attacked on their way back from an escort mission and though not much harm was done to his team —bruises, scratches, cuts, and at most sprained knees or arms—, it was customary to make sure the ninja were in good health. Reporting to the Hokage was simple and kept brief. Sasuke told only of necessities, details that one would deem important. His old mentor, Kakashi, nodded at the appropriate times and dismissed Sasuke after informing him that he would receive his pay in the morning after the rest of the team would recount their journey as well.

At the moment, Sakura was bandaging his right arm as he stared out of the window, mind elsewhere. It had been raining for the past three days straight. The storm brought creases to his brow in frustration, he was late. Strong winds shook the window panes and pelted the rain against it; if he hadn't known any better he might have thought it was a hail storm.

Sakura glanced at her childhood teammate and friend, hands finishing up the end of his bandages. She observed his distant look and she could only hypothesize what he was thinking about. With a chuckle to herself and a pat on his arm, she nodded once, pleased with her work. "All set," the pink haired woman placed her arms at her hips. "You're free to go, Sasuke."

Snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes widened for a millisecond, forgetful of where he was and who he was with. "Mn." Sasuke nodded his thanks and stood from his chair. At the door, he looked over his shoulder to the pink haired medical-nin, "Your birthday is soon." It was a statement not a question.

Sakura knew this, and smiled widely with a nod. "It is".

"Ah," the man nodded his head once more and turned to leave. He left without regard for the storm, headed directly for the home he shared with his wife, who was sure to still be awake.

During his mission, he had sent messages to her by hawk to relay their progress. It had become tradition that he would write to her of his return after she once asked him to do so after his third out-of-village mission given to him after their marriage. Sasuke later found out that not only would it appease his wife's anxiety, but it was also so she would be able to prepare a warm meal to welcome him home. While it benefitted him as he didn't get to eat well on missions, Sasuke knew it also brought her happiness to be able to provide for him where she could. So he figured he could allow her that.

As he neared his home in a rebuilt Uchiha compound—though much smaller and less ostentatious as the original—, his assumptions about his wife was proven correct. He could see the dim lights of the kitchen through the window, proof enough that she was still awake.

Sasuke made his way to the front door as he fished his keys from a pouch strapped to his hip. He unlocked the heavy frosted glass door and stepped in to the warmth of his home. Slipping off his shoes, he walked up the few steps onto the raised platform of the house, heading towards the lights that were turned on in the kitchen. He could see that there were pots left on the stove, a dim fire keeping its contents warm. His heart strings pulled on the idea that his wife kept the food prepared for whenever he would return, which on this particular mission was unexpected and delayed. Sasuke found Hinata at their dinner table, examining a scroll, brows furrowed in concentration. A smile crept upon his lips as he observed her, completely oblivious to his presence. He found himself content with the idea of just watching her for a few more moments. She was biting on her lower lip, committing whatever she was reading to memory. She was studying and researching healing properties of the herbs she had collected in the jars she laid out in front of her. The jars were the only things odd on the table, as the dinnerware was set in their rightful places, ready for his first meal back.

Hinata stretches her arms above her head, letting out a small yawn into her shoulder.

Sasuke walks across the tatami mat, feet padding softly underneath him. He gently catches his wife's hand in the air and presses a kiss to her palm. It takes Hinata a moment, but she stands from her seat and is about to scurry to the stove to get him a plate, but Sasuke halts her actions and pulls her into his chest. He takes a deep breath and inhales the lavender-herb scent that is his wife and relishes in her warmth. The rain continues to pour outside, heard over head as it pelts against their roof.

Sasuke Uchiha was not a talkative person. He was not known for his eloquence or his vast vocabulary. Similar to battle, he was sharp, quick, and efficient. He was direct, curt, and he shaved off the excess frills of unnecessary details when speaking. He was never truly good with his words, he may have even been considered awkward whenever he was trying to express himself in ways other than combat. What he says and what he means, especially to his wife, are different and yet completely the same.

His voice was hoarse, from exhaustion and perhaps from the nervousness that settled in his stomach.

"_Tadaima_," he says.

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"I love you," he means.

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**Hi. Welcome to this… thing I threw together. I've been lurking around the Sasuhina community for quite some time and there has definitely been a decline in the amount of content being put out. I decided to try my hand at it. I haven't written in actual years, so I apologize. I also apologize if the format was odd and hard to read. I may edit this at a future date.**

**The idea of these two always sparked my interest as I hated the notion that Hinata just waited around for Naruto to realize he loved her and — she just deserved better. **

**As that I _have_ been lurking for some time, I do feel the need to let you know that my name is not Ashley, and that I do not intend to die anytime soon. Thanks.**

**Other than that, let me know what you think. It would be amazing to hear from you all.**


	2. Sterile

**I don't own Naruto.**

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**_Sterile_.**

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Everything around him screamed sterile. The smell, the air, the white walls, the white tiles beneath, the white ceiling above. Even the floor that he was on was nearly empty. After the war, peace slowly overtook the land. The change didn't happen all at once, but the missions rank B and above became scarce. Missions often had to do with transporting goods of some sort from one village or land to another. Very seldom would someone have to end up here, the hospital, for anything severe. Maybe check-ups, an ailment of some sort, a leg that needed mending after falling from a greater height, but hardly—if any—wounds inflicted during battle.

Sasuke was but a dark figure leaned against one of the sterile white walls, deep in meditation. He wasn't a stranger to the hospital, he visited before missions that required him to go beyond the village borders. Yet, of all the times that he _has _been here were for matters concerning himself, never anyone else. This time around, he was here for his wife and it took everything in him to not eavesdrop on the conversation happening in the room across the hall from where he stood. As someone that valued privacy himself, he thought it hypocritical to intrude in whatever was going on between Hinata and the nurse, which had just so happened to be Sakura. Thus, he found himself in meditation, keeping himself from using his ninja abilities, which had become second nature to him—instinct—, as he has excelled at such abilities since a young age.

With his eyes closed, and arms crossed, the man focused on his breathing, keeping his mind anywhere else than to what lie beyond the white door. There was a small rectangular window on the door, one that Sasuke refused to open his eyes and look through in fear that he may overstep any boundaries—ones that he had set himself.

Soon, the door clicked ajar and Sasuke opened his eyes, lifting his head just a fraction to stare at sympathetic Sakura. She heaved a sigh, "You should go inside."

Sasuke pushes himself off the wall, not skipping a beat.

Sakura quickly grasped at his sleeve, causing him to stop in the middle of the hallway to look over his shoulder with a look of question. "Don't…" she paused, chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplated her words, "... rush her." The left corner of her lips pulled back, forming something between a frown and a sad excuse for a smile.

He simply nodded and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him to allow some privacy.

Sasuke let out a deep breath, bringing his eyes to his wife sitting on an examining table. Hinata looked so small, he noticed, with her hands in her lap, gripping tightly at the bottom hem of her shirt. Her eyes were downcast and her lips a tight line. As he took a step towards her, she snapped her head up and gave him a meek smile. "Let's go home."

Sasuke knew his wife just as Hinata knew him. He would not pry and she would tell him when she was ready.

He gave her a nod and stretched his hand out towards her to help her down from the table.

She didn't take it.

Dinner that night was almost like any other, the only difference was the awkward tension that Sasuke could feel in the air. From an outside perspective, one would say that it was nothing out of the ordinary. Hinata had prepared dinner for the two of them while Sasuke helped where he could. She had smiled and laughed when she asked for help preparing the fried rice, instructing him to place the already steamed rice into the pan. He had almost added syrup instead of soy sauce. They set the table together and proceeded to eat, with Hinata filling the empty space between them with small conversation.

Sasuke answered at the appropriate times and asked similar questions back at her—how her day was, had she created a new balm with any of the herbs he had brought back from his last mission, and he had even asked about the next time they would see visit the Hyuuga Compound for dinner. And yet, he could still feel the tension, the fact that they were dancing around the topic of what had transpired at the hospital.

He wouldn't press it. If she came to him—when she would—, he would listen.

Sasuke was in bed now, waiting for his wife to join him. He laid on his back, eyes trained on the open door that let the smallest of light from the hall seep into their room. The soft and light scuffle of feet made its way to his bedside and as Hinata sat on the edge of the bed, her back towards him, Sasuke sat up the instant he could could see her shoulders trembling. A calloused hand reached out to her, gently touching her shoulder. Still, he didn't ask.

Hinata didn't flinch at his touch, nor did she melt into it. She continued to shake, which drew Sasuke to her. He was close enough to place his chin on her shoulder while he pressed his chest to her back. His right hand found its way to her own, clutched at her chest. He ran his fingers across her knuckles with a feather like touch, coaxing her to relax her grip. Her sobbing quietly subsided with a long exhale.

"Hmm," he hummed into her shoulder, kissing her there once and keeping his nose pressed against the fabric of her _tanzen_.

With his hand still over hers, she moved her much smaller palm over her stomach. "We lost him."

Sasuke didn't show any kind of reaction right away—Hinata didn't expect him to, her husband was a ninja after all—, he had suspected so when he had witnessed the moment before she slipped her mask on the for the remainder of their day together. After a pause, he exhaled deeply into her shoulder, his warm breath doing nothing to console her. Instead, she sobbed again.

He shut his eyes and shook his head against her body, hand closing tightly over hers. He—like most times— struggled to find the correct words to say. A knot had formed in his throat, making it hard for him to swallow. A tingling sensation erupted in the tips of his fingers and toes, dissipating as it spreading through his body. This feeling: it was pain; it was sadness.

"You are strong, Hinata." Sasuke's voice shook lowly; he hadn't heard such a sound in years. It was foreign, but familiar all at once. His hand left hers and gently took hold of her chin, turning her head to the side so that it would allow his dark eyes to look upon her face. With the pad of his thumb, he wiped away her tears. She looked at him with her brows furrowed, despair clearly written upon her expression her features softened when she saw that she was not the only one hurting.

"You are far stronger." Sasuke pauses again and leaned forward to press lips against her temple, "than anyone I know."

Hinata bit upon her lower lip, suppressing another onset of sobs. She closed her eyes tightly and leaned her head against his. Finally, she melted into his arms, leaning against Sasuke's chest as his arm wrapped around her middle, desperate to keep her close to him.

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**Hello! I have read your reviews and you are all amazing. Thank you all so much.**

**These chapters will mostly—if not completely—be told from Sasuke's perspective (while remaining in third person because I just can't do first), and in my head, Sasuke is a rather "man of few words" kind of person after the war. But just because he doesn't say much does not make him a boring person! Which is why I found myself writing this character.**

**What was your favorite way Sasuke said, "I love you" in this chapter?**  
**Let me know in the reviews!**


	3. Chunin Exams

**I don't own Naruto. Crazy, right?**

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**Chunin Exams**

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There are nights where he would dream of red painted walls, scream-filled air, and eyes—which eerily mimicked his own, to the point that he was convinced that they _were_ his— that burned a hole into his soul. There are days where the sound of his own voice was a lost concept to his ears. There are times when his eyes played tricks on him whenever he looked in the mirror and saw himself transformed into a man with hollow cheeks, eyes of ember, and a venomous look upon his expression. The air in his lungs replaced with fire, smoke making it difficult to breathe; to gasp for air. His chest would constrict and every breath he would take would just fill the cavity with pain.

Sometimes, when Sasuke would get like this, he would not leave his bed. Bags would form under his dark eyes, refusing to sleep despite never getting out from under the covers. Sleep would bring on more night terrors—memories, maybe—, which would bring more screams from his throat, dry and aching from lack of use. His arms and legs would feel heavy, as if he had been fighting nonstop since he was twelve. His muscles would feel sore, like the experiments had never stopped. He would refuse to get up for days at a time and, in severe cases, weeks.

Hinata would remind him to get up, assisting him to the washroom when it was absolutely necessary. She would bring a meal to his bedside: miso soup, tomatoes, rice, and fish. She would help him sit up and lift a bowl of miso to his lips, urging and pleading him to cooperate with her and he would, no matter how far into these states he would get. Sasuke would always listen to her.

Other times, he would rush to the Hokage's office, barging passed any person who came into his field of view. His demands for missions—any mission, he was desperate—were a plenty. The longer the better. If they were lower ranked and short term, he would take as many as he could. These were the times when Hinata would write to him, whether it be through messenger hawk or the notes that she would leave in his bentos. She would hand make ointments and salves specific to the missions he would take.

He felt guilty, Sasuke had to admit. Hinata was a good wife, while he failed as a husband. He failed to be present, but whenever he found himself in higher—not necessarily better—spirits, he vowed to show her the same thoughtfulness that she showed him.

On a Thursday afternoon, after coming back from a casual training session with his friend the Hokage, Sasuke returned home expecting it to smell sickenly sweet from the cinnamon rolls Hinata typically made. "Tadaima," Sasuke called out. His voice echoed and bounced off of their wooden floors and walls, the multiple rooms of the old-traditionally styled house which was scarcely decorated with furniture—the both of them had agreed to keep only what was necessary, neither one a huge fan of frivolous materialistic belongings.

"Hinata?"Sasuke called out once more.

The Uchiha clan head furrowed a brow in both confusion and worry as he realized that his home did not smell of cinnamon and fresh baked dough, neither of sage and lavender, nor was it filled with the sounds of boiling water on the stove or a soft hum of a tune he'd come to grow fond of.

His feet lead him to his shared room where he hoped to find his wife. To Sasuke's relief, she was there. Hinata had her back faced towards him, inky hair — which can only be described as the color of deep space, not quite completely black with just a hint of blue — spilling over her shoulders and onto the bed mat. The window was open to let some sunlight into the room. It was devoid of much sound, save for her soft breathing and a bird chirping off in the distance.

"I'm home," he whispered. He was unsure of how to act, like if he stepped foot into their bedroom, he would be overstepping some sort of boundary. He knew that she heard him; he knows that she can feel his presence — he married a Hyuuga, afterall.

Yet, she didn't move to greet him.

A bird flew onto the window sill and Hinata sat up, still her back was turned to him. She was in the yukata he remembered her wearing when he left this morning. She didn't move when the fabric slipped off her frame slightly to expose a pale shoulder. When she reached out to the bird, it fluttered its wings and took off into the sky, frightened.

Hinata turned her head to him and offered him a smile, one that did not reach her eyes.

The next day, Sasuke woke up to see that Hinata had not moved from the position she was in the night before when he closed his eyes for sleep: her back to him, staring out of the open window.

After staying in bed for about an hour longer than he typically would, Sasuke left their futon to prepare himself for the day ahead. He returned to Hinata's side with a cup of black tea. He was unsure if she would even accept it. From the moment he woke up, Hinata hadn't said a single word to him, she hadn't even acknowledged him when he left, nor when he came back.

"Hinata," he spoke, his voice pleading while his face is as stoic as per usual. "Please."

The woman on the futon lifted her gaze to finally regard him, but only just that.

Frustrated at no one but himself and his lack of understanding of what was wrong, the male Uchiha stood to leave. He stopped at the doorway, voice laced with both concern and helplessness. "I will return soon."

He waited a beat, as if she'd answer—she didn't—, then left with a heavy sigh.

Sasuke found himself in the market, brows furrowed as his eyes scanned the baked goods on a stand run by an elderly woman. He pointed at the cinnamon buns and traded his coins in for the sweets. He continued down the road, a bag of groceries in his right hand. He stopped in front of a tea stand, momentarily as he debated going in. After a moment, he nodded his head and spoke to the air, "Hn," he hummed in affirmation, "Perhaps Hinata will appreciate a fresh tin of genmaicha tea."

As he ordered from the store owner, he heard two familiar voices within the shop. It wasn't until the man went into the back room of the establishment for his order that he looked towards Shino Aburame and Shikamaru Nara. They were seated not too far away, discussing business it seemed. Their eyes met and soon, the Uchiha found himself in the company of his comrades.

"Sasuke," Shino nodded a greeting. Beside him was a stark difference to his straight posture: Shikamaru stood with his weight on one foot, hands in his vest's pockets.

Sasuke nodded once in return..

Shikamaru took the toothpick that was in his mouth between his two fingers as he spoke, "Oi, Sasuke. Naruto wanted me to tell you to swing by the tower, there's an assignment waiting for you. We're on our way back if you want to come with us. Shino and I were just discussing plans for the Chūnin exams." Shikamaru placed the toothpick back into his mouth and lazily scratched at his cheek.

At that moment, the man returned with a tin full of tea and placed it on the counter. Sasuke gave the store keep the necessary amount of money, then placed it in the bag with the rest of his items. He turned his attention back to the two men. "I see, thank you."

Shino, who noticed the purchase and undoubtedly understood who it was for, cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Sasuke…" His voice trailed off softly

"Hm?"

Accustomed to the Uchiha's curt responses, Shino continued, "The Chūnin exams…" He spoke as if there were something else, an underlying meaning.

One that Sasuke caught on to.

Naruto sat behind a large desk, littered with loose leaf papers, stacks of Manila folders towered as high as his head, and scrolls that spilled over onto the floor. In front of him stood Sasuke, bag of groceries slung over his shoulder.

"One second.." Naruto mumbled to himself, turning over half written on documents and checking a drawer in his desk for something meant for the Uchiha. "I have a m—"

"Keep it," Sasuke interrupted.

"Eh?" Naruto's ever expressive face looked at him quizzically, confused at why Sasuke would reject a mission.

"I have more important matters." With that, Sasuke turned to leave.

With the correct folder in his hand, Naruto called out to Sasuke's retreating form," What's so important?!"

"The Chūnin exams are here."

Naruto was left in his office to wonder when Sasuke had cared for such things.

"Tadaima," he called out again into his home. As expected, Sasuke found Hinata still in bed. Kneeling beside her, he helped her sit up, propping her up against his left shoulder, the cinnamon roll in this right hand. "Eat. We have somewhere important that we must go to. "

Hinata stared blankly up at him, but nodded once when he held the pastry to her mouth.

Getting his wife to the very spot she currently stood at was a feat. Feeding her, bathing her, and dressing her was only possible with promises that they were going somewhere important. The fact that she had cooperated—albeit very little; he was there with her for support, both emotionally and physically—told him that she had an inkling of an idea where they were headed to, and that was enough.

The two stood before a gravestone, one of many in the cemetery that had been expanded after the 4th Shinobi War. Sasuke stood silently behind Hinata, simply watching her hair lift with the gentle breeze that passed them by.

With an exhale, Hinata slowly descended to sit on the balls of her heels as she knelt before the grave of Neji Hyūga. She extended her pale hand to trace the engravings. "Did you know, he had almost killed me during our Chūnin exams?" The smile on her lips was somber and had Sasuke not understood coping mechanisms of loss well, he would have thought his wife deranged and mental.

At her words, Sasuke took the couple of steps that separated them towards her. After a moment, he sat next to her, legs crossed underneath him. He looked towards the woman sitting at his right side. Sasuke Uchiha was not good at consoling others. Often, he would stay silent, he would run, he would avenge. However, he would not do any of that with her. After swallowing the thick lump in his throat that had formed from uncertainty, he spoke, "Do you... think he would have approved of me?" He spoke with a formal tone about the man, as if he were afraid to offend the dead.

Hinata's smile grew just a fraction wider, shedding its somber attitude. She contemplated briefly. "No, I don't think so, not at first anyhow." She almost laughed at that. "You are too much alike." Her voice, normally soft, was raspy. This was the first conversation they had for days.

Though confused at her statement, he waited for her to explain.

Hinata's hand began to dust the gravestone of the imaginary dirt and debris that had collected. "You are both quiet by nature, extremely overprotective, stoic and calculated and—"

Sasuke furrowed his brow, more confused than before she had started to list traits that he was starting to disagree with. "Do we remember my childhood differently? I fled and sought hell on this village and its people"

Finally, Hinata turned her head to look her husband in the eyes, her own pale lavender orbs holding so much love within them. "—and you are both driven by what you believe to be right and just." She sighed and shook her head, placing her hand atop his on his lap. "But he would have seen all of that and after setting aside his pride—something that you also have in common—, he would have come to accept and respect you, perhaps even befriend you."

Sasuke released the tension in his furrowed brow, his features softening at her words. Like her, he shook his head and replaced his hand to be on top of hers, giving her delicate hand a gentle squeeze.

After he had prepared for bed, Sasuke wasn't surprised that he had found his wife in the same position she had been in that very morning.

Sasuke slipped under the covers and leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her shoulder. Shortly after, Hinata turned onto her right side to face him with her tearful expression. He shifted his body closer her hers and placed another kiss on her forehead before he pulled her tightly against him.

Sasuke would allow her to cry, but never again alone.

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**Author's note: I'm not even sure if anyone reads this, but it's kind of therapeutic to me in that I can let all my crazy thoughts out haha.**

**This one took me a really long time to get out. I've had this idea for awhile before I finally started to write it. When I did, I found myself taking long breaks in between. Days, weeks, and, obviously, months. I apologize if anything seems forced or contrived. I'm also sorry that this one is another rather sad one. I feel like getting into the angst allows me to show my version of these characters—does that make them Out of character? Haha, probably so.**

**I decided to have this event take place at the time of Chūnin exams because that was the catalyst for Neji's change in attitude toward Hinata. I feel like it's easy to celebrate a person's life on their birthday or their death anniversary. I wanted to convey that Hinata would have celebrated Neiji's life no matter the occasion and circumstances behind it.**

**Talking about someone's PTSD from another person's POV is extremely difficult. Especially since Sasuke was not there during Neji's death. I'm not the best writer, so I'm going to explain it here. Maybe someone could give me advice on how to show what's going on in Hinata's mind other than having them sit down to talk about it. I started the chapter focusing on Sasuke's PTSD. The massacre, Orochimaru, Itachi, etc. Hinata makes the remark of how Neiji almost kills her during the exam, but never mentions how he dies. Some people are able to share what troubles them, Hinata is not. In a roundabout way, Hinata, whose life Neiji had almost taken, caused Neiji's death. That's the trauma that lingers with her. She feels survivor's guilt, just like Sasuke feels (amongst other things of course). In this canon divergent universe, I kept the fact that Kishimoto used Neiji's death as a plot device to bring Naruto and Hinata together in mind. That means that in this universe, Hinata's guilt is amplified by the fact that Neiji had sacrificed his life because she had loved Naruto so much that she was willing to die for him and that that specific love for Naruto did not end the way younger Hinata would have wanted it to.**

**I wanna clarify that this does not mean I'm shipping them because they might be considered "broken". I'm just showing that these characters, though skilled ninjas, are human.**

** What was your favorite way he expressed his love this time? That he thought about getting her tea? That he brought her to Neji's grave? **

**Okay, let me know your thoughts! Sorry for how long winded this ending note was. If you read it, feel free to open up discussion with me in a review!**


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